by Aurelio Peña
CRACKS are showing on the caked dry surface of the narrow canal beside one of the white-painted old buildings of the Kapitan Tomas Monteverde Sr. Elementary School, getting the attention of my nine-year old son who points it out to me. “El Nino, it’s also here in school, dad” he blurts out as he rushes through the door of his Grade 2 classroom.
The scorching heat of the noonday sun is by now penetrating my skin as I glance at the clear blue sky looking for any signs of coming rain. Thick cumulus clouds are massing in the east, behind the The Marco Polo Davao.
The other day, it did rain hard, I could hardly believe it. From the window of my Nova Tierra apartment, I could see the whole sky darkened by threatening dark-grey nimbus clouds. For the first time, I could hear the rain pounding on the roof, a refreshing sound on a hot summer day. The cold wind was blowing in-between the glass panes of our windows that day last week.
Walking out of the school, I keep looking for tell-tale signs of El Nino along the narrow side canals of this well-known public school along Ponciano street, shaded from the searing sun’s heat by the thick foliage of five huge century-old acacia trees. The cracks are still there but some portions of the narrow canal are wet and hold little spots of water, perhaps from last week’s sudden rain and the waste water from the cleaning done by the school’s janitors.
School kids are now rehearsing their parts in the gym for the coming graduation exercises by the weekend, the culmination of the school year and I could feel the excitement in the air— the feeling of something’s coming, the feeling of new hope, just like the coming of the rains.
This surging feeling of new hope came to me when my son narrated to me about a little “election” they had in school when a little ten-year old “mayor” was campaigning from room to room asking the other school kids for their “support” in their little school election. This little candidate vowed to do something about the little “cracks” along the school’s narrow canals even if the rains don’t come. He also vowed to do something about the heat of the scorching sun—he would plead with their principal to put up waiting sheds with wide roofs for their waiting yayas, mamas and papas.
To end his little speech, the kid asked the class to raise their hands to find out who they would vote for in the coming national elections if they’re grown-ups today. My son told me they were very excited to learn about this election, about choosing who will run this country after Arroyo.
When the kid asked them who would vote for Noynoy Aquino, only six children raised their hands. When the kid asked them who wouldl vote for Manny Villar, 32 kids raised their hands, yelling, screaming and singing the Villar song.
To me, it wasn’t so much the choice they made here, but the level of awareness these kids have about on such issues like El Nino and how it affects all of us, as well as the coming elections and how it will affect their future—-and the future of this country.
(Comments? Email me at : tradingpost_davao@yahoo.com )
